


slow dance for a bit

by Auredosa



Category: Wizard101 (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Slow Dancing, Spiral Cup Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28058802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auredosa/pseuds/Auredosa
Summary: Cyrus Drake was always a bit of a wallflower.
Relationships: Cyrus Drake/Chester Droors
Kudos: 3





	slow dance for a bit

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make some art to accompany this but my artist brain isn't half as cooperative as my writer's brain. Maybe later. For now, enjoy!

Cyrus Drake was always a bit of a wallflower. Fitting, he thought, keeping to the edges of the wide Spiral Cup chamber. The celebration was in full swing and he already wanted to return home to Wizard City. Too bad he had to stay until the morning after for post-celebratory formalities and next-day closing speeches. It was all very performative. The performance of the champions could speak for itself.

Speaking of, where was their renowned victor now? Probably soaking in the fame and praise for yet another mundane feat of magic. Give it some honest thought, it couldn’t be that difficult to defeat one of the students here. Of course, he’d heard that the headmistress, that Crisp woman, was working on making the curriculum more vigorous, like Ravenwood’s, but still, they were really just letting anyone in nowadays, weren’t they? It wasn’t like how it was before, back when he and his brother-

“Well, aren’t you simply loving the party?”

Finally, a familiar baritone voice that doesn’t make him want to gnash his teeth. “Ah, yes, I’m just having so much _fun._ An absolute blast.” His arms crossed over themselves out of habit, sighing shortly. “Really, I don’t know how you folk have the energy to host this every year, let alone the funds.”

“Oh, it is quite fun, hosting it. And as for the money, well, you can Belladonna about that.” Chester chuckled, a bubbling, pleasant sound that he suspected had something to do with the multiple flutes of mulberry wine he’d quietly observed him sipping earlier.

“I’m sorry for not joining you sooner. I had to speak with the other life professors about the new class content, scholarly pursuits, you know, all the mundane things.”

“I know. How boring that must have been.”

“Not as boring as standing in the corner like a statue,” he commented. “Shouldn’t you be over there with your champion?”

“I’m afraid I don’t even know them,” Cyrus scoffed. “They were uninterested in taking up the ways of Myth. Seldom are, anyhow.”

“What a shame. They haven’t a clue what they’re missing.” Chester said, smiling. Cyrus knew what he was doing. Distracting him to take his mind off of the fact that he couldn’t care less for these festivities. It was almost working. He supposed that they could become enraptured in deep conversation long enough to entertain themselves until the night’s end. Pity it was far too loud and chaotic for him to even hear his own thoughts. He let himself lazily study his surroundings, knowing that Chester would idle at his side for at least another minute.

He listened.

There was something changing in the soundscape before him. Someone shouting over the crowd, a gap followed by different something filling its place. He looked over the heads of the guests, each wearing their own best gowns and suits.

In between the Hall of the Hydra and the Hall of the Harpy was a band, which, to his own pleasant surprise, sounded much better than he’d expected. Some orchestra from the emerald city of Valencia, if he correctly recalled where that rose and cog emblem belonged to. Student musicians who looked no older than the tournament’s competitors sat in a neat arrangement, faces flushed from playing non-stop since the party kicked off.

One flutist was saying something to their conductor, a proud stallion wearing a white smart jacket.

“Alright, a break, then!” the horse called to the band. “Juliet, start anew with something slower, yes?”

“Oh, finally!” She flexed her wrists and set a polished violin on her shoulder. “Yeah, I can do that. Follow me guys!”

It was subtle at first. The clear, careful tones of a violin began to cut through the noise, supported by soft taps on a glockenspiel. As he let more and more of the image in, he could hear the deep, mellow drags of the cellos and low brass. Merlin’s elbow, were they making that all up on the spot? The waltz had found itself, following the young prodigy’s lead, calling more and more couples to partake in the music on the empty marble floor surrounding the glimmering gold cup.

Soon, the static chatter had died away, leaving his ears open to the melody of the slow song filling the chamber. It hummed against the walls and echoed up into the open night sky, filled with stars.

“That’s lovely,” Chester muttered beside him. “It’s too bad everyone’s too tipsy to take a spot on the dance floor.”

He couldn’t be serious. He hadn’t danced since his old Academy days, when he was a boy.

“Chester-“

“Oh, come on, now. You’re a conjurer, you don’t forget anything, right?” He linked his arm around his and started walking him down to the center of the room. “Besides, muscle memory sets in after you get yourself started.”

They were already finding themselves a spot in the circle. Cyrus realized there would be little benefit in protesting. Gingerly, he took Chester’s hand in his own, and placed his other on his shoulder. He looked down and noticed that he was standing on his toes to meet his gaze. Chester smiled bashfully, taking the first steps. 

“Goodness, you’re taller than I remember.”

“Our height difference seems workable. Let me know when your feet start to tire.” At this, Chester simply laid his head under his chin and sighed happily.

“Just dance with me, love. Just for a bit.”


End file.
